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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months

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Dirty Work 24

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: friday! coworkers last day!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You pass through the gate, cautious to close it without a noise. You trail past the hedges and around the side of the house. You enter through the back, as you did in those early days, only weeks ago, though it seems years.

You move slowly, leaving your shoes out of the way, disregarding the closet as you cling to the strap of your bag and venture warily onward. You pause before the kitchen door and peek around, finding it empty. You tiptoe on and climb the stairs one at a time, flinching at ever creak.

You reach the top and keep your eyes down. You go to the library and slip inside, like a ghost floating through your own existence. You set the bag by your feet and pull out the laptop to begin your day.

You don't think, not past the list of tasks. You boot the computer and wait for the screen to light up. You type in the pass code and open Excel. You lean your head in your hand, eyes glazing over as the glare sears your vision, stamping with endless columns and tiny numbers.

You feel yourself slumping, the strength whittling away by the second. Your eyes droop even as your ears prick at each noise. You shake your head, trying to ward off the needling fatigue. You yawn and sit up, rubbing your eyelids as you square your shoulders.

You let your head hang back and drop your arms into your lap. Your stomach wriggles as Mr. Laufeyson's looming presence creeps into your mind. He's here somewhere and surely, he already knows you are too. He's just waiting to pounce.

Your fears furl into faded dreams. A fractured series of scenes, twisted reflections of reality rippling into each other until you dizzy. You can hear your own snores yet don't quite realise you're asleep.

You wake with a start as you feel yourself slipping. You barely catch yourself before you flop off the chair. You spasm and grip the arm rest as a shadow lurks behind your laptop screen. You gape up at Mr. Laufeyson as he watches you with arms folded.

"Hm," he tilts his head, "that shirt is... not very professional."

"Sir," you keep your face down as your cheek thrums, swollen and bruised, "I'm sorry, I... I didn't sleep very well."

"Oh yes, of course, I hadn't even mentioned you sleeping on the job," he growls and uncrosses his arms, bringing his hands down to the desk. He leans in so his head is just above the laptop. "Look at me."

"Mr. Laufeyson, I'm just sorting out the expenses--"

"Look at me," he commands more firmly.

You wince and rub your neck. An ache radiates in your shoulder, another remnant of your father's wrath. You slowly raise your chin as your lip twitches just slightly. His eyes narrow and his jaw ticks.

He's silent as he stares at you. Angry, you can tell. You pull your hands back and fold them against your chest.

"Please, Mr. Laufeyson, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep. It won't happen again--"

"What happened to your clothes?" He slithers darkly.

"Nothing, I... I wasn't paying attention this morning--"

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not," you squeak unconvincingly.

His nostrils flare and he slaps his palm on the desk. You sit back, pressing yourself to the chair as you whimper.

"I underestimated that... scum," he spits out.

"I don't know--"

"Go on and lie again. What is it this time? You took a tumble?" He reaches out and you shy away, expecting him to put another swell in your cheek. Instead, he touches the thrumming skin, stroking it, "I didn't think..." he takes a breath and withdraws his hand, standing stiffly, "I believed him a coward, but not that sort."

"It's not--"

"Hush. You make your excuse for him, I will not swallow them," he flicks his fingers at you dismissively.

He rolls his shoulders and pivots on his heel. He paces across the patterned rug and stops, just before the sofa. He turns back, making another line across the space. He brings his finger up to tap his chin.

"Yes, very well, I see I do have somewhere to be," he states as he drops his hand, his lips curving at the corners.

"Mr. Laufeyson," you stand.

"Never you mind," he tuts, "you have your work, I have mine." He cracks his knuckles.

"Are you--"

"Ah ah," he points at you tersely, "since when is my itinerary your concern? Mind the house, that is your job." He huffs and checks his watch as a pinch lines his forehead, "you may receive the expected parcel and leave it on my desk for now..." he lowers his hand and grumbles, "and you will stay here."

"Mr. Laufeyson," you murmur.

Before you can protest further, he's at the door. You're frozen in disbelief. Surely he can't mean what you think.

It doesn't matter to him, does it? You are his house manager, just another below him he can torment, he wouldn't do anything like that. Certainly, he won't harm your father, right?

You rush after him as your doubts bubble over. As he enters the hallway, you grab his elbow, not thinking, not hesitating for once in your life. "Please, Mr. Laufeyson, whatever you're thinking of--"

He faces you and rips his arm free, "don't."

"Please, it's-- I--" you sputter helplessly and wring your hands, "I deserved it."

He squares his chin and blinks. "Deserve... so it was him?"

"Mr. Laufeyson, it isn't... isn't your problem. He's my dad, I'll deal with him."

"As you have so far?" He scoffs, "pet, I mean to defend you. To do you a favour. Another. And now you overstep and try to command me?"

"No, no, I'm not... not commanding. I'm begging," you clutch your hands tighter, putting them up to plead, "don't make it worse."

He dips his head and closes his eyes. He pinches his nose and gives a nod, rubbing his lips together. He raises his head and opens his eyes again. He shrugs and lets a grin break through.

"It isn't your choice," he grabs your wrists, locking them together in his grasp as he drags you forward.

Your socks slip on the floorboards as he tugs you down the hallway. You struggle, writhing and sliding against his force. The same panic that struck you last night swirls again, thumping in your chest. He turns and swings you through the door of his bedroom. You stagger as he lets you go and the door swiftly snaps shut behind you.

You turn to face it and throw yourself against it, twisting the handle as you try to pull it open. He holds it shut from the other side and you hear the lock grind into place. You hit the door with your fists and cry out.

"Mr. Laufeyson!"

"I will return shortly, pet, never you worry," he assures, "don't miss me too much."

You slap the wood again and press your ear to it. You listen as he struts away, whistling until it fades to silence. You hear the front door below, shortly followed by the car engine rolling to life. You rush over to the window and look at as he steers up to the gate.

You can hear his knuckles cracking and see that sinister smirk. His intentions cannot be good.

✨

Your exhaustion slakes away to panic. You pace the room, bounce up and down on your feet, fidget incessantly, murmuring senselessly. You just can't be still. What is Mr. Laufeyson doing?

Your fears twist your imagination to terror. Is he going to hurt your father? He should just leave him alone. He's the one who got him so worked up. That last thought makes you stop short.

It's his fault. It's all his fault. He heard everything on the phone, he knew your dad has anger issues, he walked into your home and he ruined it all.

Your lashes flutter as you sway. You feel like you've been struck all over again. Mr. Laufeyson has done this all to you! He gave you this job, he took you away from your dad, he invaded your home, he made you wear those clothes.

And now, you're mad. You feel that hot streak inside of you unlike anything before. Vivid and venomous. You run to the door, throwing yourself against it as you beat with your fists.

He's locked you up here so you can't stop him from doing anymore. You're sleeping in a hotel because of him. You're not eating or sleeping, you can feel yourself going insane. Because of him.

You're dizzy and breathless. You lean on the door and try to calm yourself. Your head hurts.

You slide down and turn to put your back against the door. You hang your head, bending your legs to rest your arms over them. You heave and close your eyes.

You're just as helpless as you've ever been.

✨

The footsteps bring you out of your daze. You raise your head, wobbly on your neck, and blink several times before you get your bearings. You listen to Mr. Laufeyson's entry, his slow advance below, and his steady ascension up the staircase.

Your heart hitches but you don't move. Even if you had the strength, you refuse. You will not budge.

He comes down the staircase, a hum in the air. You tense and grit your teeth, eyes hot again with tears. Not sad but angry.

"Ah, pet, you will be happy to hear that I don't believe your father will have another cruel world reserved for you," he sings the handle shifts slightly above your head and the lock clicks. "How shall we celebrate your emancipati--"

The door jolts and you push back against it. You plant your feet and grunt as you force it shut. He lets out a noise and shoves back. You do it again.

"Pet," he evens his tone, "what are you up to?"

"Leave me alone!" You snarl, surprised by your own venom.

"Pet, now, let me in--"

"I said go away!"

He scoffs and stops pushing. He lets out his breath loudly.

"This isn't mature behaviour."

"I don't care, I don't want to see you."

He's quiet again. You hear his soles scuff and he gently taps on the door.

"Pet, please, we should talk. I think it's imperative that we do--"

"No, I don't want to talk. I don't want to see you. I want you to leave me alone!"

"You are being a child--"

"You ruined everything," you bark, "you ruined my life! You're a bad man and I hate you!"

You go weak as the last words escape you without a thought. You collapse onto your bottom and catch your head in your hands. You devolve into thick, choking sobs. Here you are, bawling like the child he calls you. He must be amused.

"Are you tendering your resignation?" He asks crisply, "because I believe you haven't anywhere else to go, my dear."

"I know! Because of you. I have nowhere, because you!" You shoot back through heaving breaths.

"Or... you could have somewhere, because of me," he says measuredly. "Pet, all you have to do is open the door and talk to me."

You fall onto your side and curl up. You cover your head, whimpering as tears trickle down. You sniffle and hide under your arm. Just like you did when dad wouldn't stop yelling.

The floorboards shift and he sighs again, "I can wait." He taps the door lightly once more and his footfalls retreat.

You tremble in a heap, nearly delirious with emotion. Through the chaos, you can see the truth. You don't have anywhere or anything without him.

✨

The world shifts under you, your body chafing across the floor as the door moves you. Not harshly but inch by inch. Mr. Laufeyson bends over you as you open your eyes, groggy and glazed over. His silhouette is fuzzy and distant as he slides his arms under you.

He lifts you and carries you to the bed. You groan as he lays you down, piling pillows behind you to prop you up. He sits with his legs over the side and pushes his head back. You come to, little by little, pushing through the fog.

You hug yourself and wiggle in place. He reaches to still you, his hand on your thigh. You wince and stare at his fingers. He draws his knee up and shifts to face you. He removes his touch as his eyes cling thoughtfully to the wall behind you.

"I see you've calmed down," he begins and lets his gaze fall on you, "so we will talk. I'm sure you're aware that matters are urgent."

"No..." you utter, "I'll... go."

You try to sit up and he nudges you back. You hit the pillows and do not try again. You don't have anything left in you.

"Where?" He challenges.

"I have a hotel room--"

"No," he shakes his head, "that won't do. What I'm offering, well, you can hardly deny it."

You drop your head and shrug.

"How many more nights can you afford? And without a job? I'm offering you both. Work, accommodation. I dare to say, I would offer you a home."

"No, you're my boss," you insist.

"Yes, I do expect you to shoulder some tasks," he assures, "but perhaps... we might remold this arrangement."

Your eyes stick blankly to your knees. You don't know what he wants or what he means. Just more. It's always more. Hasn't he taken enough?

"What more can you want from me?" You whisper.

He's quiet again. His fingers twiddle and he lifts his hand, touching your arm and slowly grasping it. He unwraps it from your torso and trails down to your hand, squeezing it.

"I made myself clear before," he pulls your hand closer, cradling it as he pets your knuckles, "but perhaps you still misunderstood me." He clasps your hand between both of his, "I want you. Entirely."

Your eyes flick up to meet his. Your mouth falls open as your heart tempos wildly. You still don't think you understand. Your search his face for the answer.

"I will grant you any wish. Clothes, jewellery, whatever you like. If you like to read, I will buy you books, if you like to draw, I will buy you paint. If you just want shiny things, I can get those too. All I ask is simple. For you. For your entire being. That you obey and serve my every need and you will have all you ever longed for. Things you never even dreamed of," he slips a hand away and lifts yours. He leans in and softly kisses your knuckles, "you say I am bad, but I needn't be.”

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #maid au #dirty work #mcu #marvel #avengers #thor

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5zzall · 2 months

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✨Howler & Kevin in maid costumes✨

These are for @pjblob 's maid cafe AU💕💕

#pj masks #pj masks au #pj masks howler #pj masks kevin #pj masks wolfy kids #maid au #The most gorgeous au I've ever drawn!!

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writerandbaka · 9 months

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You have no idea how much I'm hyped for the Miraculous Awakening movie... I'm literally counting down the hours until its official release (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)❤

The 5th season was a bomb of emotions, so in the meantime enjoy some Adrienette sketches made these hot days of summer (*ˊᗜˋ*)

#adrienette #adrimari #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #marichat #cat adrien #cat au #maid au #adrien x marinette #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanart #mlb #my sketches #my art

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thezombieprostitute · 7 months

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Cleaning Up

A/N: My final entry for @the-slumberparty‘s Bingo, this one combining "Maid AU" and "Picnic". Reader is implied female but no descriptors used.

Warnings: Implied abuse. Harassment. Ex-boyfriend angst. Please let me know if I missed any!

“Ms. Y/L/N, may we chat?”

You inwardly roll your eyes as your manager, the very annoyingly particular (though very attractive), Mr. Jonathan Pine. Ever since he took over the hotel’s management he’s been a thorn in your side. Asking how and why you clean the way you do. Following you along your rounds. Always looking over your shoulder at what you’re working on. It’s really set your nerves on edge and you’ve been anxious at work every night since he started.

“About what, Mr. Pine?”

“I want to thank you for allowing me to shadow you on your rounds. The other maids have been quite short with me when I attempt to learn from them but you have been exceptionally patient with me. I’m certain it cannot be easy to have a stranger watching what you are doing, but it has been most helpful to me in learning the standards and needs of the hotel.”

“Oh,” you definitely weren’t expecting this. “Umm…you’re welcome?”

He gives you a small smile and continues, “the last thing I wanted to do in transferring here was tell people how to do their jobs. The fact is, the hotel is running well so changing things would likely be detrimental to our operations. But lessons learned here could be applied to our lower performing hotels and you have been an admirable guide.”

“Remember that at my performance review,” you chuckle.

“I was actually wondering if you’d be willing to take on a management role. Your tutelage was most helpful and easy to learn from. I think you’d do well.”

“Oh hell no,” you shake your head, eyes wide. “I’m not good at managing people.”

He cocks his head to the side, “but you did so well with me.”

“You’re a person, not people. I’m fine with one-on-one but even a small group gets a bit much for me. Especially if I don’t know them.”

“Ahh, I see,” he nods. “I would still like to promote you so that you can earn the amount you should for training others. There’s no question amongst the staff that you’re the best teacher. Or, tutor, as the case seems to be.”

“As much as I’d love that, you don’t get promotions and more pay without more responsibility so what would the catch be?”

“It would, technically speaking, be managerial so you could no longer be involved in union matters.”

“Nope,” you shake your head, smiling. “The union has been too good to me and for me. I really appreciate the consideration, but I’ll stay where I’m at in the hierarchy of things.”

“That is a shame, but I shall respect your decision.” Jonathan smiles back while making some notes on his clipboard and excuses himself.

The rest of the night shift is spent rather quietly, everyone going through their usual routines. You all had some good laughs over items left behind from patrons. You’ve lost track of how many unused condoms you’ve found in the garbage bins.

You’re getting ready to leave for home when you hear a painfully familiar voice behind you. “Y/N! What are you doing here? Are you staying at this hotel, too?”

You turn around and see him, Charles Blackwood, your ex-boyfriend staring at you with a malicious smile. “I’m here for work, Charles. Why are you here?”

“I’m here for pleasure,” he winks at you. “What job are you working these days that they’ll pay for you to stay here?”

You bite your lip before telling him that you work here for the cleaning staff. He chuckles at you, “you really should’ve finished up your degree, Y/N. You’d be in a much better position if you had. If you’d stayed with me, I’d have found a few better positions for you.”

You’re losing your battle to keep yourself calm but don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break down. Charles had always been quick to criticize you for being “too emotional,” “unable to take a joke,” and “too stupid to think logically.” He’d broken you down so much that you dropped out of college because you were failing everything. It took you so many years, and so many tears, to get out of the habits he’d forced you into.

“Please just leave me alone,” you say through gritted teeth, nostrils flaring.

“Aww, but you’re always so much fun to poke and prod,” Charles starts to walk towards you and you brace yourself, not wanting to flinch or run but also not wanting him to touch you. You’re so focused on him you don’t notice Jonathan until he’s standing between you and Charles.

“Mr. Blackwood, please do not speak to my staff in such a manner.”

“Don’t worry about it, we’re old friends. She knows I’m just poking a bit of fun. Tell him, Y/N.”

Jonathan looks over his shoulder at you and you give him a gentle shake of your head with a scared look in your eyes. He turns back to Charles, “Mr. Blackwood, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave. I will not have anyone harassing a member of my staff.”

“I’m not harassing her, I’m just talking to her. Now stick to your job and get me my room key while I catch up with my friend.”

“Sir, in the span of just a few minutes you have made several inappropriate comments towards her and she has asked you to leave her alone. I will not allow you to continue your conversation regardless of your previous relationship. If you do not leave I will not hesitate to call the police.”

Charles' face turns ugly with rage, “I’m just chatting with her. Nothing more. Now move.”

“Charles, please just leave me alone.” Even you are surprised that you spoke out, but Charles’ surprise turns back into rage.

“What the hell is your problem, Y/N? All I wanted to do was chat and catch up with you. But no, you’re still the same stupid, self-important, overly sensitive bitch I broke up with. I was the best thing to ever happen to you and you’re lucky that I even deigned to acknowledge your presence! You cost me a hotel room and I only wish I could get back all that time I wasted trying to help you.” Charles turns on his heel, grabbing his luggage, and storms out.

The minute he’s no longer in sight you collapse into a ball, ugly crying. Jonathan has a hand on your shoulder asking if you can get on your feet and go with him to the break room. You struggle a bit but he’s got surprisingly strong arms and helps you to your feet. You get into the break room and he immediately gets you some water as you keep sobbing. You lose track of the time and only know that Jonathan is well overdo to clock out because the morning manager comes in to talk to him. You can’t help but feel guilty for taking up his time.

When you try to apologize he cuts you off, “you do not need to talk about what happened between you two. You are distressed and that is more than enough for me.”

“I…I want…to apologize,” you force the words out. You hadn’t had a stress stutter in a long time but just a minute with Charles and it’s back. “You sh…shouldn’t have to…deal with him.”

“There is nothing for you to apologize for,” he reassures. “Even if I didn’t know you I would have stepped in. I’m a bit of a stickler for doing the right thing and sending him away was most certainly the right thing.”

“It…he shouldn’t still get me like this. He was…never physically violent. He never hit me…”

“Just because it wasn’t with his fists doesn’t mean he didn’t hurt you,” Jonathan cuts you off.

“He…would point out…all of my flaws. He’d…say he was helping me by doing it so I, so I could work on them and…and feel better about myself. If I ever th-thought I was doing good, he’d…he’d laugh as if I was joking and make sure to point out every mistake. Every flaw. Every good thing could’ve been done better if I’d done this or that. If I ever complained, it was me being too sensitive, unable to take a joke. I still have moments where I think he was right.”

Jonathan holds your hand and looks into your eyes, “Y/N, I’ve only known you for a few weeks but I already know you to be strong, capable, kind and intelligent. And to see so much of that disappear in just a few seconds of his talking to you tells me much. He clearly hurt you greatly yet you still stood up to him. You are much stronger than you think you are. Certainly stronger than he thought. He was wrong about you in many, many ways.”

His words cause more tears. You’re expecting curtness, being brushed off, but he’s giving you kindness and understanding.

“Would, um, would you,” your hands are shaking and you can’t look him in the eye but you know you need help. “Would you please walk me to the bus stop? I…I don’t want to run into him again. And I can’t tell him to get off the bus. If he’d even “deign” to use public transit.”

Jonathan smiles and puts his hand on your shoulder, “I’ll do you one better, if you’ll let me. I’ll give you a ride home. That way he won’t get the chance to see or follow you. How does that sound?”

“I’ll make sure to give you some gas money. I live kinda far away.”

“That will not be necessary,” he gives you an earnest look. “As I said, I'm a stickler for doing the right thing.”

“Thank you, Mr. Pine.”

“We’re off the clock, Y/N. You can call me Jonathan.” He smiles at you and you feel a bit calm.

Over the course of the week, between your coworkers and your manager, you find it surprisingly easy to get back to normal. There was a time when something like this would’ve resulted in at least a month of flinching at interactions and crying at mistakes. You bring in cookies to the break room to thank everyone. You even made sure to make some vegan ones for Denise.

After another week you notice Jonathan is still regularly checking in on you. So much so the other maids are semi-jokingly talking about the two of you getting together. Normally management is considered “off limits” but apparently Mr. Pine is an exception for them. They keep talking about him around you, as if you needed reminding that he’s handsome, polite, strong, a good listener, cares about his people, etc., etc. That’s kinda the problem.

He’s definitely out of your league. He’s refined, well educated, strong in so many ways. Meanwhile you’re a constant mess, a dropout, and, at best, a work in progress. You’re pretty sure the only reason he keeps checking in on you is either pity or general concern for his workers’ well being.

At least until he asks you to join him for “lunch” at one of the picnic tables outside. Working the night shift you generally don’t go outside to eat but you trust Jonathan and walk with him out to the tables. It’s a part of the hotel you don’t see often. The flowers are lovely and there are fairy lights that make everything feel almost magic out here.

"I think I need to eat here more often," you say with a smile. "I didn't realize how pretty the landscaping was.

"It is quite lovely," Jonathan agrees. "I also think it's important to occasionally walk away from your work. Helps you come back to it with a fresh perspective, maybe even a bit more energy."

"That makes sense. I just wish we could see real fireflies. The fairy lights are lovely, but there's just something magical about the real deal."

Jonathan gives you a confused look, "fireflies?"

"Oh, I know they're called lightning bugs in other parts of the country. They're so pretty regardless of what you call them."

"I have never seen them before. Part of me genuinely believed they were an American cryptid sort of thing."

"You know, we are in the right season for them," you look at your food, not quite believing you're about to say what you're about to say. "If you'd like, we could go to a more rural area some night, a nearby nature park, and we'd likely be able to see them. Have a picnic by firefly light." You hold your breath awaiting his response.

"Y/N, are you asking me on a date?"

"Um, well, if I've overstepped I don't mind rescinding. I was just thinking-"

"I'd love to."

#jonathan pine x reader #navy and roo's sleepover #maid au #jonathan pine #charles blackwood

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herarcadewasteland · 7 months

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ngl im thinking about committing to an 8 part smut-ish series where reader has been a cleaner for SKZ for years and the boys have never seen her until one of them heads back to the dorms early and finds her cleaning his room, perhaps grabbing something she saw from under the bed and then chaos ensues because they know who you are now, for the most part, and you're hot....

maybe call it "Clean Up" or "Shining Surfaces"... ill think on the title

#maid au #herarcadewasteland #reader insert #skz fic #8 part series maybe

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shrimpsthings · 1 year

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Super smooth flat color is soooo amazing

#fanart #subway boss kudari #submas #subway boss nobori #subway bosses #pokemon arceus #pokemon black and white #pokemon #maid uniform #maid au

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kazumi0 · 3 months

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#リヴァエレ #エレン #リヴァイ #eren jeager #levi ackerman #shota levi #teen levi #maid eren #maid au #forgot to post this here lol

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k-indie · 2 years

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not just some maid

synopsis; Geto gets a taste, Sukuna gets the whole meal (will be the beginning of part four as well) nsfw ahead full send but not too much going on in this one

Pairings; Geto x reader, Sukuna x reader

Un | Deux | Trois | Quatre

The information about you spread like wildfire between the three men. It was no longer a dynamic of hateful desire between you and Sukuna, no longer a tease between you and Toji, and the kindness that was once shown to you by Suguru was now a feral chase. They were practically on top of each other trying to reach you, trying to get that thing they'd been searching for and killed 36 women to find.

Now that they have it, the discussions of firing you became discussions of keeping you-- alive.

The intense glares, the lingering touches, and occasional questions about your body became annoying to hear, feel, see-- you wished they would just stop already because it truly was too much and you were getting whiplash.

Most girls would fawn and giggle, occasionally give something back to them before they finally fucked her brains out and most likely ignore her after the one time. But you... you were different in too many ways, but their favorite to note was the fact that you weren't a normal woman, you weren't a fangirl, you weren't even that interested even if you had made out with your boss and had an intimate evening with your other employer. But he would only ever know the extent to which you allowed him to go.

Perhaps, a recap of the night should jog your memory.

Do you remember when he asked you to undress him? No? Oh, right, he didn't ask-- he demanded sweetly that you take his clothes off so you could touch his skin directly how he wanted you to, so the oil could warm up his body alongside those pretty little hands he wanted to squeeze and hold above your head when he dipped his hips into yours.

In his naked glory, he felt different with you already, the way your respectful gazes only fell on the parts of his body that you knew you'd be touching for sure. The rest was nonexistent. He was amazed that you looked at him as though he were more than a handsome piece of meat, perfectly delectable and desirable.

The way your hands rubbed and pinched the soreness in his joints and tautness in his muscles while obliging his conversation made his cock twitch, and to save face, you pretended you didn't see it. But his low moan when you turned him over and started massaging his back, the back of his arms, his thighs and calves, didn't go unnoticed when you paused for a split second and cleared your throat.

"I understand the information you seem to be bothered by is sensitive information, but I have no one to tell so if you want to get it all out, you are in a safe space, Suguru-sama. I know you've only known me for a short amount of time, but I won't cause you any troubles."

He hummed to himself, deciding on whether it was a good idea to let it all out to a woman he'd only interacted with a handful of times during the few months you'd been there, but he was sure you wouldn't remember it anyway after he fucked it out of your head. He already had his suspicions of you sated by the way you ignored his advances and never brought them up to anyone, the way you would hear your coworkers whispering about things that shouldn't have been uttered and you didn't even flinch, nor did you run and snitch on the poor souls who did not realize they were being watched by multiple pairs of eyes, one set belonging to you.

And he began to sliver bits of specific information into his replies so you knew both sides of the equation, your responses short so he knew you were listening while you worked your hands into his skin, nails occasionally and lightly running over his muscles, something he would find himself growling through his words at.

"Don't do that, precious."

You weren't sure which thing he was talking about, you'd done so much on his back. "Forgive me, but I have no idea what you mean, sir."

In a moment, your arms were pinned next to your head, tightly held between his hands and pushed deeply into the bed with his legs holding yours between his and faces too close for comfort, but he liked it. He could see everything so much better this close, could practically taste those sexy lips at this distance. His eyes were opened now, the usual squint disappeared and was replaced with a lustful gaze that had you startled in the best way.

You may not have shown outwardly, but the excitement in your body at seeing this man on any given day was enough to have you wetting yourself for a week. So, to be under him now, having his slowly laying flush against yours had you reeling and your poker face faltering slightly when he leaned closer, his lips smoothing over your own while he separated your legs with his.

"The only time I want your nails digging into my skin," he moved his face down, licking your jaw and running his tongue in circles over the junction where your neck and jaw met, "is when I'm taking you to bed. Okay?"

He was so beautiful hovering over you like this. It was like looking at a fallen angel that was smiling with blood in its mouth; sexy yet mildly horrifying.

You couldn't even respond, an infinite amount of replies swirling around in your head and you didn't trust your tongue enough to even attempt to form a coherent idea, so you pressed your lips together and nodded once, poker face returning and much to his dismay at the sight.

"Shall I return the favor, (Name)?"

His lips were on your chin now, giving it a small kiss before he moved his hands from yours and ran them down the length of your arms to your shoulders, the sides of your chest, and resting them on your hips heavily. He stared at you with a flurry of emotions running past his irises, unobtainable ideas running through his head at the sight of you like this. He couldn't take you now, not before Sukuna did if you were what he suspected you were but he could play around just a little bit.

He flipped you over to your stomach, pushing your silk gown up and pulling it off you slowly. His fingers pinched at the fabric adorning your hips and he pulled them down, off, and tossed them to the floor. You weren't wearing a bra, so he didn't care much, but he did give you the safety of turning over before he allowed himself to see them, saving your dignity for when he was finished. Thanking him internally, you turned your head to the side to look at him from the corner of your eye, watching him pick up the oil bottle and he squirted it directly onto your back and butt.

"It's really not necessary, Suguru-sama."

"I know. Just relax and let's enjoy this..."

His fingers pressed into your skin when he dragged his hands across your back, spreading the oils as he massaged your muscles. It was a need and this man was meeting it.

The way his fingers traipsed across your skin as if you were delicate yet strong, such perfect pressure in the ball of his hands, the way he expertly moved around your muscles and massaged your deep tissues, the light press of his cock against your inner thigh from behind... You looked back at him but he placed one hand on the back of your neck to keep your face forward. He leaned over your body, nose nudging the side of your head as if he were smelling your hair, and his deep, sultry voice spoke, "What did I say, little girl?"

"First of all, Suguru-sama, I'm not a little girl. And you said-"

"Hm, so you really are a brat. And something else, aren't you?"

He pushed your face into your pillows, keeping you still and unmoving for a moment before turning your head to the side, pressing you deeper into the mattress when he put all of his weight on the back of your thighs, free hand smoothing over the oils on your ass before giving it a hard slap.

Your body jerked to the right side and you moaned involuntarily at the action. Suguru chuckled lowly, watching your ass jiggle under his next slap and before you knew it, you were a moaning mess at the spanking he was giving you and he wondered if you'd react like this when he was only spanking you, how would you react if he was fucking you?

He pushed that thought to the back of his mind in lieu of settling on the question that was far more important than his cock being buried deep in that pretty cunt.

"You're a Symbol, aren't you?"

It was silent-- too silent. And that only pushed his curiosities further to the positive side. He didn't need an answer anyway, he peeped the symbols on your hip bones, geometric circles where his thumbs would fit perfectly in the center of.

"What do you want?"

He smiled at the question, turning you over and allowing himself the pleasure of eyeing your breasts and he licked his lips at the sight of your nipples in their hardened glory staring back at him as though they were calling out to him.

He tore his gaze away from them and locked eyes with you, his gaze was lustful now, feral even, and you wished he would've kept you face down now.

"I want what you have, pretty girl. I want," his fingers pressed against your slightly dampened pussy lips and tapped twice against your clit, pushing through the skin and popping the hood so he could stimulate your bundle of nerves directly, "what you're hiding here."

You sucked in a breath and held it, chest rising at the action that didn't go unnoticed by his truly.

"And what is it you think I have?"

Your gaze was faltering as he kept rubbing tiny circles against your bud, eyes dropping to his hand when it dipped low and his long digits imposing on your slit. Before pushing in, he offered you a small smirk, "You'll see, Virgin Symbol," and he allowed his fingers to press into you all the way, sucking him in and pushing him out simultaneously.

He knew you had barely been touched before and never even penetrated. He knew you were sensitive sexually, and he knew he had to have you. But not before his colleague. You'd feel the same after Sukuna destroyed you inside and out so he was patient... for now.

He settled for slow strokes and the occasional push upwards against you g-spot there before turning his hand to face downwards and pushing further into your dripping cunt and playing with your cervix, fingers rubbing slow and random patterns into it before pressing a finger lightly to the entrance of your womb.

You bit your tongue, keeping your eyes trained on his hand. You hadn't realized the white-knuckle grip you held on the sheets below you until he pulled one hand up and placed it on your pussy, "Rub yourself for me, pretty."

You couldn't deny him anymore, he was so smooth and suave that you had no other option but to rub your pussy for this man and so you did. Fingers finding your clit easily and you teased yourself a bit, tapping on the bud a few times before holding your lips apart with two fingers and rubbing your clit quickly with the free finger.

"Not too fast, I don't want you to cum just yet."

You slowed your pace, eyes hooding as you looked up at him. "Why not?"

When you smiled at him just as he smiled at you, he knew he had the right girl, the right woman. It was the way your smile made you look like a completely different person, the way your eyes flashed an entirely new color, and the way your cervix was palpitating against his fingers that made his smile falter slightly.

She's seasoned but somehow a virgin...

"Oh, daddy, don't look at me like that. It was just a question~"

You moaned his name at him, face contorting into a sexy frown and you sat up, holding his hand still in your pussy and getting onto your knees, slowly grinding on his fingers and making intense eye contact with him.

"This is what you wanted, right," your hand that had two fingers on your pussy, lifted to his face, pinching his cheek before smoothing your hand over it, leaning closer and closer to him now, "You wanted to see me fucked out on your hand alone, yeah? Wanted me to be overstimulated by the time you put your cock into me, huh?"

Your laugh was like music to his ears. The newfound dominance was delightful to see from such a woman, but he already expected that given how you rarely take the same shit Sukuna dishes to his other subordinates and housekeepers. He knew that as soon as the trio had you naked for them, you would be a hard one to tame.

And he knew you were close to cumming, so he quickly put his fingers to use now, ignoring your questions to fulfill his previous goal in making you cum for him even if it wasn't on his terms. "Gonna cum for me, beautiful?"

Your moan died on your throat when he shot a finger upwards and one downward, pressing onto two of your sweet spots and rotating his hand so the same fingers were pressing at new ones. He bit his lip at the low cry you let out when your pussy began wetting his fingers with your nectar. He pulled his fingers out and swiped over your clit a few times before licking some of your juices off of his fingers, eyes never leaving yours.

"I'll be sure to let Sukuna know of this... discovery."

"How long have you known?"

"Since the day I hired her."

Suguru knew Sukuna knew about it without having to ask. He tasted it on your tongue when you made out with him on the first week there. He smelled it when you walked by him, when you spoke to him. He could see it in your eyes, the way you sat, the way you smiled, and the way you ate your coworker's pussy.

He cursed himself for thinking like a simp and wishing you would dominate him like that and use that gorilla grip 3000 milker with the suction stimulator flesh of your pussy.

And he was about to go get it the following day.

"After I'm done, you can decide between yourselves who will have her next."

The discussion about you ended quickly, the only things needing to be spoke of was that you were this Sex Symbol they'd been searching all over for, and that you were going to be in Sukuna's bed the next night, probably all day.

He had half the mind to keep you out of reach of his friends, but he knew they would kill for that pussy and he didn't need problems. He already killed off 36 of them, information you still didn't know about.

When the following day came around, he was already in your room before you rose, watching you sleep soundly and so naked he almost pounced on you in your sleep. But he fought tooth and nail with himself on the inside to remain put by your bedroom door, leaning against it as if he had no quarrel in the world.

"Good morning, princess. How was your night?"

You felt his presence before you saw it, the feel of his eyes boring into your skull, the feel of his nasty ass smirk fluttering evilly and happily right to you. And you didn't care that you were naked in front of your boss, you'd already been felt up by all of them, so being naked was the last thing on your mind when your feet touched the floor. "It was great."

You turned away from your boss and padded into your bathroom leisurely, turning on the shower and hopping it, forgetting the waiting time for it warm.

"You should take the day off, (Name)."

Speaking leisurely, lazily, as if he were just some nobody in your bathroom watching you through the glass as you scrubbed yourself, "And why would I do that, my liege?"

It was silent for a moment, the only thing you could hear was the sound of the water dribbling on your skin and the floor of the bath, before the door opened, revealing a stark naked employer pushing past you into the shower, letting the water run over the back of his head as he turned to face you, keeping your source of water on his back. The water started trickling down his temples and cheeks, forming a pathway down his chin and neck.

"Because you won't be able to walk when I'm finished with you."

fourth part will be up Friday probably.

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gessshoku · 2 years

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@satanicduckko I’ve drawn your beloved boy and my god

He’s so much fun to draw and color!!

Shit quality but I promy I’ll render him better on procreate because how can I not </3

(Whoever drew that pink face on the side I want you to know I appreciate your existence :’D)

Other Aggie doodles!! We had fun there :D

I didn’t know what to draw really, all I knew was go with the flow and the flow just so happens to be maid dresses, arson and teardrop :)

Thank you Maudie for the aggie it was extremely fun!!!!

#also whoever watched me redraw him 3 times and asked why I kept erasing him #you saw absolutely NOTHING #But I do appreciate being watched I didn’t expect anyone to notice so thx!#i May never know who pink face was #but they drew that face very nicely #maudie cannot stop mini moon from committing arson #and that’s okay #gess box of arts #aggie #teardrop #fnaf security breach #sundrop #moondrop #maid au #because I said so #may make a cafe AU because I can #ima do it now #others ocs #fnaf oc

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bwoahtastic · 5 months

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Found some old tags that I don't remember the meaning off so let's see what they are:

#army au #silent max #baby omega max #plush gate #clone au #a/b/o police #maid au #chatroom abo #intimidating max au #idkiwp wedding #muzzle au

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calamityshrike · 2 years

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🌪️：？？？？？？？？？

#fujin #mortal kombat #mk11 #mk #mk fujin #lord fujin #mortal kombat11 #maid au

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months

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Dirty Work 20

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: weekends aren't for rest, they're for being sick and anxious so Monday will be a treat.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

As you enter, you try your best not to make too much noise. You set the bags down lightly and ease the inner door shut. You can hear your dad and the soft sound of puzzle pieces meeting the table.

“Ya know, thirty years almost, but I can see her just like yesterday,” he says.

Your heart clutches. You never heard him talk about your mom. When you were a kid and didn’t know better, he just ignored all your questions about her. When you got older, you stopped asking. You figured it’s easier for both of you to pretend she never was.

“I’m sorry, hon,” Leslie comforts, “you know, in my line of work, I’ve seen it over and over. It’s a wound you can’t heal.”

“Oh yeah,” he grits, “yeah, I’d say…”

You swallow and lean back on your foot, crinkling the bags behind you. You cringe as you hear sudden movement. You turn and work to slip off the white loafers. You pretend like you weren’t listening as Leslie’s shadow looms from the archway.

“You’re home,” she proclaims, “we didn’t think you’d be so early.”

“Me either,” you say as you face her.

Her lashes flick and her mouth opens, “oh my, you look so good! Weren’t you working today?”

“Uh, did some work,” you lie, “I got a few hours off so I… did some running around.”

“Oh, gosh, come on, you have to show your dad,” she takes you by the wrist and tugs you around, “Charles, look at your girl.”

She presents you with her hands on your shoulders. You can’t even look at your dad as the couch creaks and he grunts at your appearance. He snorts and pushes another piece into the puzzle.

“What am I looking at?” He sneers.

“Charles, don’t be like that. Look at her hair, and this dress,” she touches your hips, “must be a nice job, huh?”

“It’s alright,” you shimmy out of her grasp, “I just… needed something more presentable–”

“Something shorter,” your father scoffs, “so when she’s bending to tidy the floors you can see right up.”

“Charles, that’s gross,” Leslie reprimands.

“Truth can be like that,” he snickers, “think some man’s buying her fancy clothes so she can sweep? We both know how she pays for you.”

“No… it’s not…” you shrug and give up, “I’m gonna put my stuff away and start dinner. If you want, you can head off early too.”

“Oh, I don’t mind sticking around,” Leslie says as she once more sits beside your dad, “let me know if you need any help with dinner. Don’t wanna get anything on that nice little dress.”

You nod and hesitate. You can’t tell what she means by that. For as much as she can call out your father, she often speaks with an edge of her own. Just like the cigarettes, she must assume his insults are your fault.

You leave the room and grab the bags. You carry them up the stairs to your room. You shut the door and sit on the end of the bed. You bend and cradle your head, trying to set it straight after the dizzying day.

👠

The bus provides a momentary break from your hostile world. There is no safe place for you. Home is barely that and work is… confusing. Your only escape is to focus on your tasks and get through them. Get through Mr. Laufeyson’s list then come home and the chores left untouched.

Your look at the time on your phone and black the screen. You get a glimpse of your reflection off the glass as you do. You didn't do too bad with the makeup. It looks okay. You tried not to use too much as you recalled Eliana's instructions.

You shake off your doubts and airy feeling around your legs. You're not use to the skirt or the pretty fabrics. You feel overdressed and out-of-place, but the latter is so new to you.

Through the gate and along the edge of the drive, you hear your name flutter in the air. You stop short as you see Frigga strolling along the hedges, caressing the petals of a rose. She draws away and strides towards you, an ivory skirt paired with a golden brown blouse and nude heels.

“You do start early, don’t you?” She approaches and takes your hand, “come, let’s have tea.”

“Oh, uh, I…” you let her tug you along the walkway towards the front door, “the carpenter is coming today–”

“Ah yes, Loki mentioned you were working on restoring the gazebo. That’s lovely. We used to have tea there, me and… his wife. She was a laugh.”

“Mm,” you hum. Whoever this woman was, she must’ve been very special. You imagine a beautiful woman with silky hair and long legs like Frigga. She must’ve fit right in.

“I suppose if it was meant to be, it would be. I only hope my son can find happiness again,” she squeezes your hand before she lets you go.

She opens the door and waves you in ahead of her. You slip out of your flats much easier than your usual lace-up sneakers. She steps out of her heels and sighs.

“That’s his problem, you know? He’s lonely but too proud to admit it,” she sidles around you and leads you down to the kitchen. You follow and watch as she goes to the counter and pours from the waiting teapot. “Though I haven’t seen him today. I suppose he’s sleeping in, it is the weekend.”

You tilt your head but don’t comment. For as long as you’ve worked for him, not very long at all, he’s never slept past your arrival. Well, not so far as you know.

“I do love this skirt,” she comes back around the counter and touches the tweed, “wonderful pairing,” she touches the blouse with the petal shaped cutouts around the high-collar, “you’re learning.”

“Um, yeah, all the clothes are so pretty,” you say.

“Please, have your tea. I’m sure you have time before the carpenter,” she urges.

“Right, er, I’ll just take my bag upstairs first,” you say, “out of the way.”

“Sure,” she accepts with a kind smile, “how about I take this out to the patio, we can enjoy the sun?”

“Alright,” you agree and hike up your bag, “thank you.”

You quickly flit off and head upstairs. You weren’t expecting her to be there. You just hadn’t thought of it. You only dreaded facing your unbendable boss and his persistent stare.

You go into the library and tuck your bag under the writing desk. You double check the schedule in your phone; Ronan, 10. You have an hour before he arrives.

Your mind is already on the gazebo as you scurry back into the hall. As you shut the door gently, you hear a groan. You peer down towards the unusual noise and blink at the slightly ajar door. The main bedroom. Mr. Laufeyson’s. It rises again before a drawn out exhale, his timbre rumbling low.

You quickly set back to your path and flee downstairs. Maybe he’s talking in his sleep, or more likely, stretching out a few kinks. Your curiosity quickly dissipates as you pass through the dining room and out into the patio.

Frigga sits with large pointed sunglasses over her eyes. She tilts her face up to the sunlight as you sit before the other cup of tea. You pull it close and look out at the yard. A streak of green catches your gaze.

You watch the hummingbird hover over fuchsia petals. You stare dreamily, lulled by the peace of the moment as Frigga merely sips and basks. This isn’t so bad. The bird zips between flowers before disappearing behind a tree. In his stead, the skittish chipmunk scrambles along the railing of the patio. You smile at his fluffy tail.

“I’ll be off tomorrow,” Frigga states, “my husband will be expecting me. Oh, but I’ll miss you, darling.”

“Is it very far?” You wonder.

“Four or five hours,” she answers, “not very far but enough. It’s so lovely up where we are. I wish you could see. Perhaps one day. When things are better.”

Before you can answer, there’s a subtle click behind you.

“Morning,” Mr. Laufeyson’s voice is unleashed onto the scene as the patio door swings inward, “mother,” he pauses before he enunciates your name, “beautiful day out.”

Your shoulders stiffen and nearly touch your ears as you sit straight. He pulls out the chair at your other elbow and sets down another teacup with a clink. He sits and smooths back his dark hair, tucking the spiralled ends behind his ears.

“Late morning,” his mother remarks, “any tea left?”

“Some, shall I–”

He puts his hands flat, moving to stand but she shoos him as she’s quicker to rise, “I’ll get it myself. And you darling,” she dips her chin in your direction, “more?”

“Oh, no thanks, I’m still… working on mine. Thank you, Frigga,” you say, mindful of each syllable.

She leaves and the door clicks shut behind her. You stare at the brim of your cup, turning it slowly between your hands as Laufeyson raises his own to his lips. He drinks carefully before putting it down again.

He’s quiet. He shifts and plants an elbow on the table. He turns his attention to the yard and watches. You dare to look up as well, the chipmunk poking his head out from the bush where he hides. He ran away at Mr. Laufeyson’s arrival.

“Cute little fellow,” he remarks as he faces you again. You quickly lower your eyes.

“Uh, yeah…”

“Mmm,” he drones and taps his fingers on the porcelain teacup, “you… that’s a nice shirt.”

“Thanks,” you lift your cup and drain most of it, gulping painfully as you put it back down, “I should go start. Ronan will be here shortly–”

“The carpenter?”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson, I have him penned in–” You explain.

“And? He is a carpenter, he knows what he’s doing. I doubt he needs you watching over his shoulder.”

“I know, uh, but I should be there to let him in,” you slide your cup off the table.

“You’re not even done your tea.”

“I’ll finish on my way in–”

“You’re avoiding me,” he accused and you wince.

“What?”

“You’re running away? Why?” He challenges.

“I’m not, I– I have work to do.”

“Work I give you. I’m your boss, you may sit and finish. I’ll permit it.”

You falter and set the cup on the table. You lower yourself back to the seat and fold your hands. You look at your lap and push your shoulders back. He is back to his haughty demands, you find that part of him easier to handle.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Laufeyson, I wasn't running away.”

He scoffs thinly and his nostrils flare as he stares off at the hedges that edge the patio, “I wonder why you can be so quick to flee me when you sat and let my brother feel you up.”

“Huh?” You blanch, stuck by the accusation. “Mr. Laufeyson, I–”

“I know him well and I’m not as blind as my mother. I saw it. You didn’t say a word. You just let him do it,” he clucks, “why?”

Your eyes round and you bat your lashes. You nearly choke, the acidic flavour of the tea drying on your tongue. Was it that bad? You tried not to think about it, to let it affect you, even as the memories flashed in your head, you just tried not to feel anything about it.

“I didn’t… well… he’s your brother, Mr. Laufeyson, I didn’t want to assume… to offend–” you stammer.

“So you let him do what he wants?” He snarlss as he turns his sights on you, a brow arch tritely. “You do not work for him, you work for me.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to do,” you sputter, confused by his anger. “I tried to…”

Your voice trails off. No, you didn’t try. You were too afraid too. He’s right, you let Thor keep touching you and you didn’t say anything, you didn’t move, you just froze up.

“It makes me wonder,” he cups his chin, leaning on his elbow, “how far would you let him get, hm?”

“Mr. Laufeyson,” you whimper, “I’m sorry–”

“Did you like how he touched you?”

“N-no, Mr. Laufeyson, no, of course not,” you plead.

“You do not want him to touch you?” He prompts.

“No, I… didn’t know how to say—”

“Shhh,” he hushes you, lifting his chin from his hand and pressing his finger to his lips. He pulls his hand away to point at you, “I’ve a better question…” He reaches towards you and you flinch. You quiver as he traces the cutout along the top of your blouse, “how far would you let me go?”

You squirm as he hooks his finger inside the teardrop window in the fabric. His fingertip brushes you as he gives a slight tug, looming closer as he draws you towards him. He smirks as you stare dumbfounded. What is he doing?

“My brother will not touch you again,” his voice is low and rocky, “I will make sure of it.” He tickles you slightly and rescinds his hand, “and you will make sure to remember who you belong to.”

He sits back and hooks his fingers in the handle of the porcelain mug. As if on cue, the french doors open behind you and Frigga trills as she emerges, “oh, just enough tea,” she announces, “I added a dash of honey this time.”

She places the cup by her empty chair but does not sit. She twirls and paces around the patio, going to the flower boxes along the rail. She leans in to examine them.

“Perhaps the carpenter could have a look here, it’s crooked,” she declares. “And I dare say the guest room has a loose floorboard right near the bed.”

“Mm, perhaps, mother,” Laufeyson drawls as he once more raises his cup, his eyes stuck on you, “my house manager will be sure to ask, won’t she?”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson,” you wisp out through your constricted throat, barely registering his command.

You can only hear his previous words echoing, over and over; remember who you belong to. Belong to… No, you only work for him.

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #dirty work #au #maid au #avengers #mcu #marvel #thor

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